


bruised knees pretty please

by playboy8



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Highschool AU, Kissing, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Sexual Content, badboy jeon wonwoo, class pres xu minghao, mild violence, they beat up kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playboy8/pseuds/playboy8
Summary: jeon wonwoo's convinced his youth is about to consist of beating up kids from the other school, saving injured kittens and nothing else, but along comes xu minghao—class president and witty, pretty fighter
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 12
Kudos: 40





	bruised knees pretty please

At that time—Wonwoo recalled clearly—a fist had grazed his cheek. And then just like time had slowed down, he recalls a blurred figure delivering a kick to the boy on his right.

"You fucks aren't even from this school. What are you gonna say, I kicked you? You want me to show all the injuries you've made here?" Wonwoo feels his arm being lifted up momentarily, before he gets distracted by soft fur gently rubbing at his knees. He looks down, blinking at the limping kitten he had forgotten about the moment those boys had started to beat him. He had beaten back, of course. This wasn't the first time he had gotten into scuffles with bastards from the other school. He looks up, meeting the tired gaze of his silver-haired class president. "At this rate, your bruises will never heal you know."

Wonwoo knows, but he doesn't say anything, just looks away and keeps mum. It's a little awkward to have to be lectured like this, but he focuses his attention on the kitten licking his hand instead, to drown out Myungho's voice. He likes his voice, actually—but it's embarrassing to have someone you're fond of nag you as if you were a child.

Myungho kneels in front of Wonwoo, plucking at a plaster and peeling away the protective layer before gently tilting Wonwoo's chin and applying it to the bruise on his cheek. Although one of the guys had only grazed Wonwoo with his fist, the other had already boxed him in the face. He winces, frowning as he turns to look at Myungho. "Aren't you supposed to wash the wound first?"

"Um." Myungho visibly hesitates, helping Wonwoo up. "There's no time, so let's not talk about that for now. If I send you to the infirmary, they'll probably inspect your wounds and find that these weren't inflicted by stairs." He's whisked away to their classroom, Myungho cradling the injured kitten in his arms.

"Were they beating that kitten?"

Wonwoo nods, avoiding the gazes of fellow students who caught sight of his bruised limbs and plastered face. "Walk faster, please."

Myungho quickened his steps. "Do only ill-bred people go to that school? It seems nothing good ever comes out of them visiting our campus grounds."

Wonwoo can tell that he's irritated, so he doesn't say anything, just lets him lead the way to their classroom. "Sit down," Myungho orders him, as soon as they reach the class, and he complies, watching as the tiny kitten is rushed off to the infirmary for treatment. His eyes follow Myungho's silver mop as the boy rushes down the hallway, only looking elsewhere when he's finally out of sight. Gently, he reaches up to touch the newly-applied plaster on his face.

'Back then... he was cool.'

Wonwoo's a bit of a loner, admittedly. Most of their classmates knew him as some sort of delinquent, which was a claim that was hard to deny with the amount of bruises he attained each day. Myungho, however, was special. Despite being the class president burdened with many responsibilities and priorities, he always came to Wonwoo's aid—to patch him up, to help him off the ground, and occasionally to even assist in driving the other school's boys away. Wonwoo found him alluring—with his pretty silver hair and elegant glasses. Even the way he spoke and got irritated was attractive, Wonwoo noticed. There was something about the way he was witty, cool and sarcastic that made Wonwoo feel like he was different from the other's.

Now, Wonwoo had never dated before, but he had watched plenty of drama in his freetime. Things like confession letters and gifts weren't something he was unfamiliar with. He would like to express his feelings for Myungho someday, but for now, he kept them tucked away in his heart.

"The kitten's alright."

Myungho stops by his desk during break, and Wonwoo's heart beats just a little faster at their close proximity. There are messages blowing up his phone, and without much of a guess, he knows he's received tons of tauntings from the school opposite their's. It was a relief that the kitten was alright, but Wonwoo found it tiresome to have to beat up more and more kids each day—even those he had already beaten before. He pushes the dread away and gives Myungho a small smile. "Thanks."

"Are those boys still bothering you?" Myungho asks, and Wonwoo doesn't really want to answer. He gives him a small nod before standing up and making his way out of the classroom. It's no secret where he's going, and he knows Myungho will end up finding him all bruised and battered later.

True enough, the next time he sees Myungho, he's lying on his back with bruises all over his limbs. The kitten incident wasn't really a big matter, but those boys would use anything to start a fight with him. After all, he was only one person. The more they came at him each day without giving him time for his wounds to heal, the more fragile he became. He hears a clear, gentle voice chastising him from above. 

"Hey. You've gotta stop ruining your handsome face."

Myungho. Wonwoo gently mouths his name, grabbing the hand offered to him and pulling himself up gingerly. Halfway up, pain shoots through his left knee, and he falls back down unceremoniously. Myungho, not knowing his legs were going to give out suddenly, is almost pulled down with him. The silver-haired boy clicks his tongue. "Like I said, you've got to stop getting into all these fights. Your wounds are still fresh from first break."

"Nobody else is going to fight them if I don't," Wonwoo mutters. Myungho furrows his eyebrows at his words, helping him up once again. "Are you going to fight them to the death and hope someone else will fight them in your place after you die?"

"It's not that serious..." Wonwoo coughs out, tasting blood on the side of his lip. Myungho looks at him worriedly, walking towards a bench, where he sits Wonwoo down and begins to tend to his wounds. "Look. I even carried the medicine down this time. You're quite the handful." Myungho shakes his head as he brings out a bottle of antiseptic cream. Wonwoo immediately has the urge to back away.

He lets Myungho tend to his wounds, however, despite the stinging sensation that left him hissing when the cream touched his wounds. He almost kicks Myungho in the face once, and Myungho has to hold his foot down. "Please don't," Myungho says, gritting his teeth as he screws the bottle shut. "You're not the only one in this school with a pretty face."

Wonwoo doesn't say anything in response, and Myungho looks at him, as if he had expected a biting remark.

"You aren't going to say anything about that?"

Wonwoo shakes his head, wincing as Myungho gently dabs his wound with a cotton bud. The words are stuck in his throat for a while, but he gets them out anyway. "You're pretty," he finally says. Myungho pauses for a moment—his gaze still fixed on Wonwoo's wound—before he resumes his task, taking out a box of plasters. If Wonwoo notices that his ears are bright red, he doesn't comment on it.

Now looking at the box in Myungho's hand, Wonwoo discovers that the plasters weren't as plain as he had expected. He blinks. "The one... on my face. Is it the same design?"

"Yup." Myungho replies simply, applying a plaster onto one of Wonwoo's fresh, new wounds. The design of the plaster is cute—printed on it was a little green frog with the bubbly words 'Keroppi'. He figured that was, perhaps, the name of the frog.

"Don't you have Eddy from Pororo or something?" He asks, and Myungho scowls at him. "It's just a plaster. Why are you so picky? I like Keroppi, so you get Keroppi plasters." Myungho huffs, and Wonwoo can't help it when a smile tugs at his lips.

When they return to class, whispers arise among their classmates. At first, there doesn't seem to be much going on, Wonwoo concludes, but a sentence just within earshot makes him want to shrink away into a corner.

"—think he beat up the class president—? —bullying—think we should report it?"

"Hey." A clear voice cuts through the noise, and Wonwoo looks up. Myungho stands over him, offering him a bottle of juice. "I hope those boys don't look for you anymore," he says, loud enough for everyone to hear, before smiling warmly and returning back to his seat. Wonwoo thinks he likes Myungho.

Wonwoo stopped showing up and giving those boys something to fight. Even then, however, many people still looked at him like he had skinned a man in front of their eyes.

He and Myungho had gotten closer over the months, with Myungho sometimes resting his head on Wonwoo's shoulder and frequently picking him as his partner for assignments. He felt sorry for Myungho's best friend—a tall, puppy-faced boy—but a part of him was basking in the affection that Myungho constantly gave him. A part of him wanted to hog all of Myungho's affection for himself.

Today, however, Myungho was nowhere in sight. Wonwoo wasn't one to overthink, but an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach as he clutched his silent mobile phone. For a few weeks now, he had stopped receiving taunting messages. The boys had, strangely, not showed up to challenge him after school either. Anxiety eating at him, he made his way to the back of the school.

True enough, the boys had shown up on their school grounds. In the middle of it all, however, was a very familiar mop of silver. Wonwoo hurried towards them, his palms sweating at the amount of boys that had shown up.

Myungho was on the ground, with a couple of boys standing over him. Wonwoo—in a fit of panic—quickly swung his fists at them, knocking two of them onto the ground. Myungho kicked one of them in the knees, and that one fell face-first onto the granite floor. Very quickly, Wonwoo checked Myungho for wounds, and found his lip and jaw bloody. There was a scrape on his arm, but nothing else. He fisted a hand in another boy's hair and kneed him in the stomach. Stalking over, he was about to land a punch onto the bastard's chin when he felt a hand pressing on his chest.

"Enough, big boy." Myungho says, holding Wonwoo back from pumelling the boy. None of the other boys were standing, anyway, so he took the chance to tug on Wonwoo's sleeve, dragging him back into the school.

Wonwoo doesn't register the hand on his arm until he's seated on the floor behind the staircase, in a fairly deserted area. He hurriedly takes out a plaster from his pocket—crumpled, but still of usage—and gently pastes it onto the scrape on Myungho's arm. It's notably printed with Eddy from Pororo—a design he had been fond of for a while now.

"How're you gonna fix me up here?" Myungho asks, and Wonwoo blinks, not understanding. "What?"

Myungho looks at him, wiping the blood off the corner of his own lip. Wonwoo stares back silently. The space behind the staircase is cramped, with Myungho practically sitting in his lap. He wants to tear his eyes away, but Myungho is leaning closer and closer, their breaths mingling. He places a hand on Myungho's thin waist as warm, wet lips press onto his own. At once, the blood rushes to his face. "Myungho," he breathes, and almost as quickly as they separate, they're pressed together closer than before. His tongue laves against Myungho's lip, the metallic taste of blood hitting his senses.

"What do you think you're doing..." Myungho breathes out shakily, nibbling at Wonwoo's bottom lip. His arms come to wrap around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. When they pull away again, Myungho sighs, rubbing his body against Wonwoo's. "Big boy," he says, in a breathy whisper, and all the blood in Wonwoo's body rushes down to his dick.

"Myungho," he says, burying his face into the other boy's shoulder. "What's gotten into you?"

There's silence for a moment, Myungho simply letting Wonwoo drag his tongue up his long, pale neck. He cranes his head, giving him more access and not uttering a word when a mark is sucked onto his skin. "I think I've had a crush on you for a while now," Myungho finally answers, in a soft voice. "But I know you've crushed on me for way longer. I could see it in your eyes," he says. "It just took me a while to realize I felt the same."

Wonwoo presses a kiss onto Myungho's cheek. "Doesn't matter how long you took," he simply replies, and Myungho giggles.

"Were you prepared to wait for a long while?"

"I was prepared to wait until I had fallen so deep in you that I'd had to have you rescue me."

"That's the longest sentence I've ever heard you say," Myungho remarks, and Wonwoo laughs. Myungho looks at him fondly. "Well, forget the infirmary," he says, leaning into Wonwoo.

"I'd rather stay here kissing you until my wounds fade."

**Author's Note:**

> twt: @89thinking


End file.
